by Amanda Boone
“Your launch is gone, Signore.”
Ashley turned her head to see a tall, thin man dressed in black. He held a handgun pointed at her head.
Valente stepped in front of her. “That is a shame. We were hoping to go for a sunset cruise. Perhaps you could lend us your boat? We will bring it back in a few hours.”
“Go up to the top deck,” the man ordered. “Or I will shoot you and give your girlfriend to my men.”
Ashley assessed everything she saw as they made their way to the top deck. At least three dozen armed men were forcing the crew top side, where they used zip ties to bind them to the port and starboard railings. This included the captain, the pilot and the communications officer. No one had been shot, although many of Valente’s men had bloody noses and split lips. Paolo, the elderly valet, looked at Valente with tears in his eyes.
“You need not waste your time with this girl or my crew,” Valente told the man behind them. “I am the one you want. Take me.”
“Put them on the launch,” the man told a pair of his thugs. To another, he said, “See to the radio and the engines.”
Ashley silently climbed into speedboat, where they were bound with zip ties and left on a bench seat. The man in charge joined them a short time later with three more of his men and started the engines.
Valente bent his head to hers. “Don’t be afraid, Bella. I will give them what they want, and they will release us.” He hesitated before he added, “No matter I say, go along with it. It is only to keep them from hurting you, you understand?”
Ashley would have laughed out loud if things hadn’t been so grim. “Yes, of course.”
By the time they reached a large, anonymous-looking cargo ship, Ashley had noted how many weapons each man carried and which were the professionals. The man in charge and one of his thugs carried themselves with the readiness of military training; the other two were hired muscle with little experience. One kept eyeing her as if imagining what he’d like to do given the time, opportunity and privacy. She nervously avoided his gaze as she planned how to use him.
The hijackers cut their bonds, and then forced her and Valente to climb up a rope ladder. On the deck more men carrying automatic weapons surrounded them. After being briskly patted down, the man in charge marched them through a maze of corridors to a large hold filled with crates and camera equipment. In the center of the deck stood a pole with a top bar that had ropes hanging from both ends.
A man with white hair stepped out of the shadows. He wore a light gray suit that didn’t flatter his bony frame, and had a puffy keloid across the left side of his face. The scar distorted one side of his mouth into a permanent sneer.
“Welcome aboard, Signore Valente,” the scarred man said. “I am glad you could join us. We have so much to discuss.”
Chapter Four
Ashley felt her heart sink. Even without the scar she would have recognized him: Vido Merska, one of the most vicious, effective mercenaries working for the cartel in Europe.
Merska’s small, pale eyes shifted to Ashley’s face. “I see you brought a friend. Please, introduce me.”
“She is no one,” Valente said. “A girl I picked up in a bar.” He tensed as the scarred man came closer. “She has no business being here. She can give you nothing. Send her back to my yacht, and you and I will talk.”
“She is the reason you’re here, Valente,” Merska told him, reaching out to tip up Ashley’s chin. “Very pretty. English, yes? They always look like flowers, don’t they?”
She simply stared at him while she ran the scenarios through her mind. If her cover had been blown they would have shot her immediately. Whatever Merska wanted, it had to do with Valente. He might have her raped in front of the billionaire, or . . . Ashley glanced at the camera equipment, and nearly groaned out loud.
One of the cartel’s favorite forms of blackmail was to invite the influential and powerful to private BDSM parties and secretly record them at their perverted worst. They then used the videos to blackmail them into working for the cartel.
Ashley knew from her dossier on Valente that the billionaire didn’t care for perversions or sex parties. To get blackmail on him, he’d have to be forced into it.
Here, now, with her, Ashley guessed.
Merska drew her away from Valente, shaking his head when the billionaire reached for her. “No, Signore, for now you must watch.” He shoved Ashley at two of his men. “Strip her.”
When Valente lunged after her, Merska whipped out a gun and pressed the barrel to Valente’s forehead.
“You will not kill me,” Valente growled.
“No, we do need you alive.” He lowered the gun as one of his men came up behind Valente and pressed his gun into his back. “But I can put you in a wheelchair for the rest of that life. And I will, unless you behave yourself.”
“It’s all right, Gio,” Ashley said before Valente could reply. She slipped off her sundress, strapless bra and panties, folded them neatly, and handed them to one of the guards. She gazed at Merska. “Whatever you want, just tell me. I’ll do it.”
He smiled. “The British always keep their stiff upper lip. Go stand with your back to the pole.”
Once Ashley took her place in front of the pole, a guard came over and tied her wrists to either end of the top bar, suspending her from it.
Valente kept his eyes on her and said nothing, but Ashley saw the raw emotion in his eyes. She nodded to him, hoping to somehow lend him some of her composure for what was to come.
“We’re going to make a little movie tonight, Valente,” Merska said as he took a coiled whip from one of the crates. “We can film this girl two ways. With you, or with me.”
Valente’s eyes narrowed. “You are not touching her.”
“If that is what you wish, then you will go over there and touch her yourself. I want to see you abuse her, as if she is nothing more than your little whore. Spank her, slap her, and handle her roughly. Make it look convincing. Then you will fuck her, very hard. As if you are raping her – which, since she obviously does not want to have sex with you in front of us, you will be. You do this, with enthusiasm, and I will release you both.”
“No.” Valente said it flatly. “I will give you whatever you want. Money. Ships. My entire estate. It’s yours.”
“Ah, but you see, if you refuse, then I must star in the film with her.” The mercenary flicked his wrist, flipping out the whip to its full length with a snap. “It will not be so pretty a video. But I will still release you. After I rape and beat her to death.”
Valente let out a roar of fury, and for a moment Ashley thought they might actually have to shoot him.
“Gio,” she said, repeating his name until he looked at her. She smiled, the way she had while dancing with him at Chiara’s party. “It’s all right, darling. Come here to me.”
#
When Valente reached her, he wrapped his arms around her, hugging her and the pole.
“Bella.” He buried his face in her hair. “I would do anything—”
“I know.” She swallowed against the lump in her throat. “Now I need you to listen to me, very carefully. This isn’t what he said. His words are meaningless. This is you and me now. I know it’s awful, but we can do this. We can save my life together.”
He drew back and gave her a tormented look. “It’s beans on toast again, isn’t it?”
She nodded and choked back a sob. “Yes, darling. That’s all it really is. Beans on toast.”
Valente drew back and began removing his clothes, folding them as she had and placing them on the floor. When he was naked, he came to her, circling around behind her.
“You have a beautiful bottom,” he murmured, and gave it a gentle slap. “I will kiss every inch of it when we are free.”
“You are obsessed with kissing me.” Ashley jerked, crying out and pretending to suffer pain that she didn’t feel as he continued spanking her.
Valente came around, seizing her buttocks with both han
ds and fondling them roughly. “I cannot hit you in the face,” he muttered.
“Spank my breasts,” she breathed as Merska came closer. “No, please, don’t,” she begged in a louder voice as Valente began slapping her mounds.
As the torment progressed Ashley realized how clever he was, cupping his hand when he slapped at her to make the sound louder. He also pulled his blows at the very last minute to keep from inflicting any actual pain. For her part she wailed piteously, weeping and twisting at the ropes as if he were genuinely hurting her.
“Enough of this teasing,” Merska said. “Fuck her now, Valente. Make her scream.”
Ashley glanced down and saw that his penis remained flaccid, and when he came close looked into his eyes. “You’ve just woken me from my nap again, darling,” she whispered. “And I’ve pulled you on top of me, shameless thing that I am. You can feel how much I want you, can’t you?”
“You were very wicked on the boat, but then, so was I.” He stared at her mouth. “I want to kiss you, but not here. Not in front of them.”
“Absolutely not. We don’t know each other well enough for that.” She rubbed her foot against the inside of his calf. “But you will give me that hard, lovely cock of yours again, won’t you, darling? I need you inside me, Gio. I want to feel you loving me the way you did on the boat. Hard and deep, please. Oh, please, now.”
What she said made his shaft swell so fast that when he lifted her over it, he was able to penetrate her at once. He began thrusting, making his pumping look rough while panting as her wet sex engulfed him with heat and need.
“I want a come shot,” Merska demanded. “When you’re ready to spill, pull out and spray her belly and breasts with it.”
Ashley saw the agony in Valente’s eyes and put her mouth by his ear. “Yes, my darling. Paint me with your lovely cream. It will feel so good on my skin, and I’ll come, and they won’t even know. It’ll be our secret.”
Valente pulled out of her, pumping his fist up and down his shaft until he jetted, the spurting semen lacing her torso as she bit back a moan and shuddered.
As Ashley blinked back tears of relief, Valente staggered away from her, and turned to face the mercenary. “I’m taking her down from that thing.”
Merska shrugged. “Whatever you wish, Signore. We own you now.” To his men he said, “Let them dress, and then lock them in the storage room on the back deck.”
Ashley’s throat tightened. “But you said you would let us go.”
“Oh, we will, in time,” the mercenary said, giving her his ugly smile. “After we make some other movies.”
Chapter Five
Valente had no intention of making another movie for Merska. As wretched as he felt about what they’d had to do, all he saw on Ashley’s face was calm, cool resolve.
He took her clothes from the guard holding them and brought them over to help her dress. “We can jump over the side if they take us up on deck,” he murmured to her. “How well can you swim?”
“Very well, actually, but I have another idea.” She shifted away from him and pulled her dress over her head. As she tugged it down, she pretended to slip and fell against one of the guards. “Sorry.”
She moved back to Valente, but once she was close, she curled her hand around his neck and made a whimpering sound. At the same time, he felt her tuck a gun into the waistband of his cutoffs.
Valente pulled on his shirt, leaving the bottom untucked to hide the weapon. As the guards escorted them out of the hold and into the narrow corridor, he clasped her hand, and felt her squeeze his fingers. Once they were out on deck, he planned on shooting the guards and every man between them and the speedboat.
He never got the chance.
Ashley slipped the weapon from under his shirt, pressed the barrel against the first guard’s knee and fired. She did the same to the other guard so fast Valente barely saw it.
“Get their guns,” she told him as she pistol-whipped one and then the other, knocking them out cold.
Valente grabbed the weapons and then stared at her. “What are you doing?”
“My job.” She gave him a regretful look before she went to the top of the stairs and looked out. “Right. The speedboat is moored directly across from this door. Go to the side, climb down, and start the engines.”
He heard the authority in her voice, and it made him frown. “And what will you be doing?”
She took the guns he’d collected and checked the clips. “Covering you. Ready?”
Valente nodded, and quickly darted out the door. Ashley followed, shooting with guns in both hands as she followed him. Still firing, she stood guard at the rope ladder as he climbed down. When she heard him start the engine, she vaulted over the side, landing in the boat.
“Go,” she told him, watching the side of the boat and lifting the guns to fire again.
Valente opened up the throttle and sped off, ignoring the whine of bullets streaking around them. Only when he put enough distance between them and the ship did he slow and turn to look at Ashley.
“I am not a travel writer,” she said softly. “I was assigned to protect you, Mr. Valente. We didn’t know they would seize the yacht, or I would have moved you to another location.”
“I see.” So much whirled in his head he could barely think. “Do you work for Interpol?” he asked.
She grimaced. “MI-6.”
Valente didn’t know what to say to her, so he focused on getting them back to the yacht. Fortunately the speedboat had a tracking beacon that homed in on the bigger boat and led them directly to it. Once he drew close, he throttled back the engines and peered through the dark at the big vessel. His crew were no longer tied to the railings, but there were uniformed officers standing over all the hijackers, who were now in restraints.
Valente drove alongside the yacht and looked up to see Paolo gazing down at him. “Are you safe?”
“Yes, Master.” He opened the hatch for the internal basin. “Thank God you and the young lady are all right.”
Valente drove in through the hatch and shut off the engines. “Ashley, we need to talk, quite a bit. But now I must see to my people.”
“I understand.” She smiled. “Go.”
Valente hurried up to the top deck, where he met the coast guard officers who had saved his crew and taken the hijackers into custody. He kissed his valet’s bald head, shook hands with his captain, and hugged Carlo until he thought his ribs would crack.
“No one was hurt,” his chef assured him. “Paolo was able to text the coast guard from his smart phone when they let him use the head.”
“I told them to untie me so I would not pee on my shoes,” his valet said with a sniff. “And they did, the idiots.”
Valente chuckled, and then went still as he heard the sound of the speedboat’s engines. He looked over the side as Ashley expertly steered the launch back out of the hatch. She glanced up at him, touched her fingers to her lips, and raised her hand toward him. He found himself doing the same.
The speedboat turned as she throttled up, and flew over the water until she disappeared into the night.
#
A week later Valente sat at his cousin’s dinner table sipping wine while her husband delivered the latest news.
“Merska and his entire crew are in prison now,” Leon said as he dug into a thin slice of spumoni cheesecake. “As are the rest of the villains who hijacked your yacht. I will see to it that they stay there until they are very old, harmless men.”
“I think you should move them to that awful prison down in the south,” his wife said. “You know how the Mafioso are in that place. They’ll be murdered in their sleep – or could you arrange something like that, darling?”
“You are too blood-thirsty,” Leon said. “But perhaps I should appoint you to run the prisons. They would emptied in a month.”
“Any word on Ashley?” Valente couldn’t help asking.
Before Leon answered, Chiara reached over and touched Valente’s hand.
“She has likely been reassigned, my dear.” As he stared at her, she nodded. “I knew. They came to me and explained how much danger you were in, and what could I do? I have tried to reach her, but they say it is not permitted.”
“It’s all right.” He set down his cup. “If she wishes to see me again, she will find me.”
The door to the dining room flung open, and a tall, refined-looking man with a red face stalked in. “Valente. So this is where you’ve been hiding.”
He stood and got between the British man and Chiara, and then saw the color of the man’s eyes. They were the same grass-green color that haunted his dreams. “You are Ashley’s father?”
“Bloody right I am. How could you do those things to my daughter? And let them film it?” He lunged.
Valente grabbed him, took a few punches to the head and then thrust him away. “You know they would have killed her if I hadn’t. How did you see the video?”
“Everyone is seeing it.” Ashley’s father dropped into the chair next to Chiara and tossed his mobile onto the table. “It’s on every Internet porn video site now. Can I have some of that wine?”
“Yes, of course.” As if fist fights were an everyday occurrence at her table, Chiara beckoned to one of the maids clearing the buffet table.
Valente picked up the mobile and did a search, watching himself assault Ashley for two seconds before he shut it off.
“What am I going to do now?” Ashley’s father said to Chiara. “It was bad enough when she was just a spy. Now she’s the new James Bondage Girl of the month. No one will marry her. Her mother and I will have to go live on Riviera.”
“Oh, I still have some prospects, Father,” the maid said as she finished filling his wine glass, and then removed her dark wig. “I’ve had tons of e-mail proposals since the video went live. Not all of them were lewd or lascivious.”
Valente blinked. “Ashley?”
“Hello, darling.” She came over to take his hands. “Sorry about the fisticuffs. Take a walk with me?”
“And, of course, they’re in love.” Her father made a rude sound. “Keep your clothes on this time, young lady.”
